


Land Legs

by FoundlingMother



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Falling In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-09-26 07:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17137538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoundlingMother/pseuds/FoundlingMother
Summary: "Eleanor accepted his attentions because, well, she’d hardly spent time ashore since childhood. She could no longer claim to be a young woman, not with nearly thirty winters weathered, so to attract the interest of a man of barely twenty years was… satisfying."





	Land Legs

When the soldier met the _Mistral_ ’s crew

Not a word of their great deeds he knew

And the Seawolf he took for a servant lass

Great Andraste, what an ass!

* * *

Eleanor humored the Young Lord Cousland, despite his blundering on the deck of the _Mistral_ , at King Maric’s grand gathering to celebrate Denerim’s liberation. Sea legs developed across years, not scant hours prior to battle. The whelp’s courage excused his previous bad manners, accidental destruction of her bow, and stumblingly snapping off a piece of railing, helped by his genuine penitence for all aforementioned crimes. He presented a charming, gracious persona in her presence at the feast, though she observed rowdy moments when he lingered in the company of his friend, Leonas Bryland. Eleanor accepted his attentions because, well, she’d hardly spent time ashore since childhood. She could no longer claim to be a young woman, not with nearly thirty winters weathered, so to attract the interest of a man of barely twenty years was… satisfying.

Eleanor befriended His Lordship in the following months—receiving his letters and writing to him in return—because of their parting that night in Denerim. All traces of the young, vibrant soldier vanished, and she witnessed him turn pale as the parchment he held. Teyrn William Cousland, dead of illness, and his son and heir recalled to deliver the body from South Reach to Highever. He begged her permission to correspond. Not even the ferocious Seawolf had the heart to deny such a request.

Eleanor grew to love Bryce because of the note.

It arrived with a gift.

An impending storm darkened the horizon. Wind whipped the harbor into a frenzy, ships swaying on choppy waves passing beneath.

Eleanor prepared the _Mistral_ , tightening ropes and ensuring her sails were well secured.

A houseboy clambered aboard the deck, laden with a long package wrapped in leather tied on with string. Regaining his footing, he approached, bowing his head and extending his burden towards her.

“From Highever, My Lady.”

Eleanor grasped the package, unwinding the material to reveal a splendid short bow, carved with an intricate ocean motif, fierce wolf racing over the flat curve. The wood’s texture felt familiar against her palm—the bow crafted of the same lumber used to build Mac Eanraig warships.

There was no doubt as to who sent the package, or the intent behind it. Lords did not expend such effort of gifts for mere passing fancies, nor even for their friends. Eleanor thought she might need to sit down.

“It came with this.” The servant’s voice drew Eleanor’s attention. In his hand, he held the note.

Eleanor unfolded the wrinkled paper—so short compared to the letters they usually exchanged—and read. 

> _For the bow I lost. From the ship I broke._
> 
> _All my love,_
> 
> _The Soldier_

The Maker himself could not suppress Eleanor’s smile.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sat in my drafts folder for a year, at least. I figure the worst that could happen is no one will read it, which was already the case sitting on my hard drive XD
> 
> Eleanor being about eight years older than Bryce has been my headcanon for a long while.


End file.
